


we're so good at selling lies

by ralphstatortots



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, hahaha (: sweats, i worked so hard on this and if u dont read i will have to kill u with my bare hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 06:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralphstatortots/pseuds/ralphstatortots
Summary: “No, I can’t say it’s crossed my mind to whore myself out for money on a camsite, angel.” James tells him, a hint of amusement gracing his tone. It makes Fraser’s cheeks heat up almost instantly James mistaking his intentions with the question.“Not for money,” Fraser rushes out, shoulders hunching up slightly when his mind forms the words he needs. It’s easier to get it out; once he says it, he’s said it, Fraser reasons. It can only go on from there. “I want to ride you on one, while people watch.” He somehow manages to say, pausing halfway through the sentence before the inevitable opening of the floodgates that is Fraser’s confession.





	we're so good at selling lies

**Author's Note:**

> this is for a lovely boys birthday, u are a such a fantastic friend to me and i dont deserve u and i love u big time xx
> 
> this has also topped my biggest word count on one of my fics here yet so uh. cool ig. i like discussion and for things to be talked out and everybody to be comfortable in these things ig!!!
> 
> title from do it all the time by idkhbtfm

Fraser knows that it’s okay to have fantasies, or thoughts that stray a bit further than what’s deemed as normal than most. He knows it’s okay to think about something once it crosses his mind, or to hold back on blurting out a confession of want that you’ve buried deep. He knows it’s okay to have certain attractions to some things, or to just _think_ about if this or that happened.

But it’s rare he’s ever outward with his wants. There’s the moments where James makes him say it, during heated kisses and harsh touches that leave a burning mark in its wake, and Fraser’s definitely intoxicated off the feeling to confess to needing more and more and more. He’s not afraid of that.

He’s afraid of confessing to something that will make James recoil, make him pull back, make his face twist into something of disgust or disagreement. He _knows_ it’s unlikely James would ever react to something in that way, but the fear still sticks to his mind. Once Fraser thinks of those reactions, it’s hard to stop.

James claims he’s been good lately. Maybe he has, or maybe he hasn’t. Fraser honestly doesn’t know when he’s too caught up in listening to the other man, obeying what he asks for and not talking back. It’s an awful habit he has where he does things he’s not supposed to so he can see James angry and riled up, and the outcome is usually worth it. If he thinks about it, Fraser is sure he hasn’t done anything like that in a week or so.

“I think you deserve something.” James mumbles into his neck when they’re in Fraser’s bed, tangled together near the cold wall and watching The Office on the TV – or Fraser is, at least. James is more interested in languidly pushing his hands up Fraser’s hoodie, pressing into the soft give of his hips and stomach and lowering his lips to the back of his neck every so often.

“Deserve what?” Fraser whispers. It’s like they’re talking in a cinema, hushed words and a few stolen kisses that they can’t get enough of. It feels secretive and unknown; with dim lighting from the TV and orange staining through his window where he’s forgotten to close the curtains again. But none of this is unfamiliar, and it’s a scene that Fraser knows he won’t ever get tired of.

James hums briefly, the noise pulsing over the skin of his neck and melting into his collarbone. “You deserve a reward, for being my good boy.”

The praise instantly warms Fraser, pulling his shoulders tight until he’s turning over in the other man’s arms to face him. James looks the same as he always does in private moments like this; heavy-lidded eyes without much focus and hair unusually more ruffled, inciting the same feeling that only the scent of black coffee does, comforting and intimate and wholehearted. Fraser doesn’t particularly lean towards the taste of black coffee as much as the scent though, and he relishes in the fact that James’ mouth is much sweeter than the bitter beverage he so often associates with the man.

“How about,” James inhales, fingers adjusting their grip with the change of position and curving into the slight pudginess of his waist. Even in the bleariness of his vision without his glasses, Fraser can tell when his eyes flicker down to his lips. “How about we do something? Anything you want, or have wanted to do. Doesn’t have to be now, just give it some thought.”

“What do you mean?” Fraser has to ask. “Like...I dunno, what do you mean?” He can’t figure out what James means entirely, and it’s easier to ask rather than embarrass himself saying something that wasn’t the question’s intent.

“Like,” James blinks slowly, eyes trailing over all the features of Fraser’s face in the dark. “Like, a fantasy you’ve wanted to play out. Maybe a new thing you want to try, I dunno. Anything like that.”

Fraser makes a soft noise, half in confusion and half in reluctance. “Are you sure? I’m not gonna say we have to do something just because I was good for a week.”

James laughs softly, which would have been suddenly jarring in the quietness of the room if he weren’t so used to the sound. “You’re always gonna be my good boy, somewhere underneath all that backchat. Just give it some thought.”

A noise of protest builds in Fraser’s throat before he finds there’s no energy in him to fight the demand. He’s tired, an unpleasant irritant clinging to his eyes and his skin burning up under his hoodie. As much as he’s grateful for James letting him steal his jumpers and holding him as if he’d evaporate the second he lets go, Fraser can’t stand the heat in the summer.

“I’m warm,” He mumbles into James’ chest, restlessly adjusting his upper half against the other man when his body itches with the heat. “It’s too fucking warm.”

“We should get a fan, so my pretty boy doesn’t melt.” James smirks at him when the term falls from his lips, turning over and out the bed to open the window. The curtains sway with the small breeze that comes in, alongside the distant shouting and occasional car horns in the street below.

“Shut up and come back.” Fraser huffs and pulls off his jumper, only briefly hesitating to do so when the other man pushes down the covers so they won’t be as warm.

James laughs again, more affectionate than mocking, pulling him close once they’re both settled against the pillows. Somewhere between pondering on James’ offer, fingers gripping tight in the loose shirt James is wearing and tangling their bare legs together, and wanting to scold the man for turning off The Office, Fraser drifts off as easily as he always does with James there.

* * *

He does think about it.

Fraser thinks for far too long than he’s proud to admit, in between editing and scripting and sleep. With making sure his channel has a steady schedule before any upcoming events, it’s hard to find time to do much else when he’s grasping for motivation and video ideas.

But he still thinks and comes to a few conclusions. They’ve already previously done some of the things he’s thought of; something a bit more public than they’re used to, something a bit more unforgiving, something a bit more dangerous. But Fraser finds maybe he doesn’t want to do something with a chance of doing it again already on the tables.

Eventually, his mind settles on something new. It’s never crossed his mind before, only peaking in his thoughts once the idea elaborates into a situation he wouldn’t mind acting out. But telling James is the challenge before he worries about everything else, pondering on specifics before he even crosses the barrier to getting there.

Except Fraser doesn’t know _how_ to bring up something like this. Boyfriend or not, how do you bring up a conversation based on a previous one where you were good enough to act out the offer of a fantasy? He’s clueless, honestly, and spends more time thinking about how to ask for it than he did actually thinking of his reward.

Thankfully, James is easier at conversation than him.

They’re both working, James sat at his desk with Fraser on the bed and making use of his laptop. It’s a peaceful domesticity that’s somehow wormed its way into their everyday life, but it’s not so much a bad thing than a heartfelt reminder that James _wants_ Fraser this close, even if he’s busy.

When James turns in his chair, a pondering and hesitant look on his face, words obviously perched on the edge of his lips, Fraser nearly doesn’t notice the movement. He’s caught up in writing his script for the video he’ll record later, eager to get it done and reviewed so his video is out by tomorrow. But the call of his own name makes his head turn within seconds, so familiar now with the accompaniment of the warm alluring tones of James’ voice.

“Hm?” Fraser pulls off one ear of the headphones before pulling them down fully.

James briefly looks between Fraser and his monitor, perhaps contemplating ever getting his attention. “Have you thought about what I said the other day?” He says, vague and nondescript enough that Fraser squints in questioning.

“A few more specifics, please?” Fraser replies, saving his work so far and nudging the laptop further down his lap until it rests on his thighs.

“About what you wanted? For being good, y’know.” James shrugs it off like it’s nothing, as if he hadn’t just brought up the exact topic that Fraser was wondering how to go about doing the same thing. “If you have given it any thought.”

The other man looks almost impatient, or more antsy, with his knee bouncing and making the chair move with it. Fraser thinks perhaps James has thought about this more than he has. Has James spent night after night also thinking about his answer? Had every conscious moment stolen for even the briefest of seconds to ponder on what Fraser would like to do? It seems unlikely in Fraser’s own mind, but the reality of it seems to be at least somewhat true.

“I mean, I have thought about it.” Fraser shrugs. He doesn’t know what’s stopping him. The opportunity is there, laid out for him to snatch up, but that just seems to be the problem. The fear comes back, of James being disgusted or disapproving of his answer, and it all seems a bit much now that James is watching and waiting for him.

“And?” James gestures for a continuation of his words, expectant. But his expression suddenly shifts to a softer, more gentle look accompanied by a sigh. “It’s not going to be weird. I know it’s not. There’s no pressure on it or anything.”

“Uh…” Fraser lets out a forceful breath, suddenly and unusually lose for words. It’s the nerves numbing his tongue and thoughts, scrambling for something to say before the silence drags on too long. “I don’t know. I don’t...want to make you do something fucking odd.”

“I don’t think you’re going to say anything odd, Fraser.” James shakes his head at him with a smile, standing from his chair to sit beside Fraser. The sudden change makes him sit up from where he was leant back on Clive against the headboard, and it’s somehow comforting not having James watch him from so far away. It’s less like he’s under a spotlight now, and he doesn’t have to look James in the eye if he doesn’t want to. A hand comes up to his back, playfully pushing into the bump of Fraser’s shoulder blades and into the bone of his shoulder. It’s more comforting than its intended to be.

“I–“ Frasers breath cuts off, lost for the words he needs once more. “I dunno how to say it. Not like it’s…_weird_ or anything, but it’s a bit complicated? Kind of, to explain.”

“Just say what it is and we’ll get through the details after.” James hums, his hand curving around the smooth edge of Fraser’s waist until he’s pressed into the bigger man’s side too. “Baby steps, one at a time.”

“That’s such a fucking cliche.” Fraser laughs, his anxiety barely concealed beneath the noise, and he chances a glance up at James. He doesn’t look pressing or impatient anymore, thankfully, and his eyes roam freely over Fraser’s face.

“It’s hard to explain honestly, but–“ Fraser sucks in a breath and his eyes stray away from the other man again. They focus instead on the rumpled corner of the duvet, untucked from the newly-made bed. “You know those like, cam sites?”

Without even looking, Fraser knows he’s squinting in thought. It’s obvious when his hand pinches just a bit tighter on Fraser’s waist, lost with his thoughts as he considers the words.

“Like Chatroulette? Or LiveJasmin?” James offers and the genuine thought in his voice somehow warms Fraser. It’s oddly endearing.

“Yeah, I guess. Bit weird you know what they are.” Fraser laughs and leans into the other man fully, flush up against him in a way that dampens all the wild thoughts that are running through his head. “But have you ever thought about…being on there?”

“No, I can’t say it’s crossed my mind to whore myself out for money on a camsite, angel.” James tells him, a hint of amusement gracing his tone. It makes Fraser’s cheeks heat up almost instantly James mistaking his intentions with the question.

“Not for money,” Fraser rushes out, shoulders hunching up slightly when his mind forms the words he needs. It’s easier to get it out; once he says it, he’s said it, Fraser reasons. It can only go on from there. “I want to ride you on one, while people watch.” He somehow manages to say, pausing halfway through the sentence before the inevitable opening of the floodgates that is Fraser’s confession.

James falls silent, scarily so. A part of Fraser _knows_ the other man is thinking about what he’s said, interpreting what it could mean, trying to find a double meaning behind it. But there is none, and Fraser thinks James knows it too. The other part of him says that James is immediately repulsed, probably wanting nothing to do with him, but it’s all foolish anxiety twisting what he thinks is real and what _is_ real.

“Why on there? What about people recognising is?” James questions, and any hope Fraser has in going through with this is suddenly gone.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to.” Fraser mumbles and pulls back from the other man. He can feel it coming already, and he’d rather be the one to increase the distance than James. “I just…” He sucks in a breath, pulling his fingers together and twisting them in an overwhelming bout of anxiety.

“No, I didn’t say that, angel.” James reassures him quickly, pulling apart his hands and soothing the tense bump of his knuckles. Fraser still can’t bring himself to look up though, the hot flush of embarrassment soaking into him and weighing down his eyes to look at his lap. “I’m just wondering what you mean, what you’re thinking. Can you explain it for me?”

Fraser knows he’s using _that_ voice. It’s the one that makes his insides all gooey and melt at the sound of it, fuzziness overtaking his senses when he hears how gentle James gets with him. It’s reserved for him, only him, and he’s never heard it be used outside of closed doors.

“I like the thought of people watching, I guess. Or strangers, really.” Fraser murmurs as his fingers tangle with James’. “I like the thought of people not knowing it’s us doing that, on a camsite. I...I just want people to see how good you fuck me, really.” He flushes hot, brushing thick over his cheeks and warming him to the point of his skin prickling.

James hums though, letting their fingers twist together until his thumb is brushing the back of Fraser’s hand. “I understand you, don’t worry. We can do that if you want.”

“Really?” Fraser grimaces down at their hands, and the tone of his words leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Don’t do it just because I want to. You should want to do it as well.”

“I do,” James’ other hand comes up to his face, his thumb pressing into the line of his jaw and fingers curling delicately around the smooth curve of his chin. It makes Fraser face him, feeling much too small and porcelain for who he is. “I want to show everybody what a gorgeous boy you are for me.”

“Okay,” Fraser wets his lips with his tongue, suddenly dry now that his gaze is turned upwards, and keeps them parted when James’ eyes follow the action. “Do you want me to…?”

The other man’s head shakes, keeping a grasp on Fraser’s chin as he tilts it further up to meet his mouth. It’s short, a simple press of their lips, but it leaves his blood humming from how sweet it feels.

“Let me take care of everything, sweetheart.” James tells him, and Fraser can’t even find the words to protest if he wanted to when James kisses him again, leaving all his senses numb and pleasantly fuzzy.

* * *

James does take care of everything, quite literally everything.

Fraser catches it sometimes; tabs left open to different camsites before James minimises the browser, testing out angles and lighting with his camera and never saying what it’s for. But Fraser knows regardless, the silent look James gives him would be enough of a hint if he didn’t.

But that’s when thoughts of his own secretive plots come to him, or more secretive than what James is doing at least.

It was purely unintentional, only an idea he probably wouldn’t act on in the long run of this plan. But suddenly Fraser finds himself looking for it in his spare time, when James isn’t home or is occupied with other things. Then, almost as sudden as his realisation of what he’s doing, Fraser’s watching blindly as his fingers type out his credit card details and selecting next day delivery on checkout.

It’s too late to take it back, the anxiety of James ever finding it now is what sits in the back of Fraser’s mind. There’s mental debate when it arrives, a quick passing of the package and a brief thank you before Fraser disappears into his room before James realises what he’s doing.

Should he throw it away? Return it? Hide it in his closet for the rest of his life? All sound perfectly reasonable to Fraser.

None of those questions are needed when he sees what’s inside the packaging, making his throat clog up at the thought of wearing it; pale pink knee high stockings, similar to a rose gold, with a lace trim on the top. Matching coloured panties sit beneath the stockings, and bringing them out of their packaging too makes Fraser’s cheeks instantly warm.

He tries them on, of course he does. It’s a waste not to at least try them on _once_ after he spent money on it, he tells himself. He’s never going to wear it again, he tells himself. He’s never going to let James see them, he tells himself.

Except all of those possibilities become frightening real when James stops him the next day, a melting kiss pressed to his lips before Fraser even realises.

“How do you feel about doing it today?” James asks him and lets his thumb smooth over Fraser’s cheekbone, surely feeling the simmering heat warming up beneath his skin.

“The…” Fraser swallows, “Cam site thing?” He manages to say, his voice quieter than he’s used to. James smiles at him, as he does when Fraser’s voice is a bit softer, and drops his thumb to the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, that thing.” James answers, amused. “Go get cleaned up, yeah? I’ll see you in my room, no rush.” He tells Fraser quickly, playfully patting his backside as he passes by to the main bathroom. Even if it’s not entirely obvious, Fraser knows James is eager to get this started.

Fraser does shower, makes sure to use the nicest body wash he has, fixes his hair obsessively once it’s mostly dry before he remembers nobody is going to see it anyway. Then he remembers the _things_ sitting in his closet, stuffed into the back of it like a metaphorical skeleton. James said no rush, take his time, but the sound of the shower outside his room has long since stopped and Fraser doesn’t particularly fancy waiting long either.

He makes the decision. The stockings are rolled delicately up to his knees, the panties are fumbled on with nervous and flustered movements, and Fraser puts on a hoodie for good measure as to not be so bare.

Fraser realises how frighteningly good he looks then, with legs looking delicate wrapped in the smooth fabric and soft, plush thighs bare below the hem of the hoodie, and the embarrassing secret he’s hiding beneath the clothing. He can only hope James doesn’t mock him for this, for doing something unfamiliar such as this.

His whole stance has changed too with the additional clothing hugging his legs, from paced strides to delicate light-footed steps, like a doe in a meadow.

The door to James’ room is slightly ajar, enough to fit his head around the corner of it, but he chooses to pause instead. There’s the initial anxiety telling him to retreat back to his room, to take the damned clothes off before he embarrasses himself, to tell James to call this off.

But determination pushes the door open for him, a want for James to see him like this and to possibly make the man breathless simmering in his chest. He does want this, no matter what his instincts tell him.

“Hi,” Fraser calls out lightly, feet stopping just a few steps away from the pushed back desk chair. James is leant over the desk itself, adjusting some camera settings quickly before he turns to look at Fraser.

“Oh.” James almost whispers, eyes trailing over his bare rounded thighs and legs wrapped in pink, slightly pigeon-toed as he shrinks under the gaze of the bigger man. His hand comes up to move his drying hair from falling over his forehead, and James’ eyes follow the action as he steps closer.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” Fraser asks, twisting his fingers together harshly as he attempts to bring his gaze up to James’ face. “I just wanted to give you something too.” He doesn’t mention the panties he’s wearing, leaving it as more of a surprise for the other man to discover.

“Oh, baby,” James coos and tilts his head up with one hand while the other drifts down his side to the soft outline of his waist through the hoodie. “It’s not weird at all. You look so pretty.” He comments, nosing into Fraser’s cheek and pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth.

Fraser flushes from the words, unable to find it in him to protest it right now. His voice is lost, drifting somewhere between his throat and his lungs. He nods, letting James coax him back into the desk chair until he’s perched in the other man’s lap. Keeping himself lifted, he lets James pull him into a proper kiss, one with an underlying tenderness that contrasts the bite of his teeth on Fraser’s lip.

“Daddy, please.” The word leaves his lips before he can stop it, a gasping whine as his breathing picks up, loose noises knocking the back of his throat. It’s astonishing how easily James can affect Fraser.

James hums against his throat, deep and rumbling and powerful against his lips – like a storm rolling over Fraser. Their kisses mix and melt into each other, permanent scars etched into their memories, and James’ hands don’t stop pushing into the softness of his pudgy thighs.

“I’m going to open you up, okay?” James asks, and Fraser is quick to nod in reply as the hands on his thighs roam upwards. He tenses and arches in James when they find the beginnings of the panties, his fingers pausing their movements of twining through James’ hair.

“Is this what I think it is?” James asks him directly, pulling back with pinkened lips. Fraser flushes and licks his lips, feeling both of James’ hands come up to cup both his cheeks through the lace material. “I had no idea you were this filthy, angel.”

“How is this filthy?” Fraser tries to scoff, but it comes out weak and watered down by a gasp when the other man’s hands retreat beneath the panties to spread his cheeks. “I hardly think wearing something like this is filthy.” He says, his breath stuttering when fingers run lightly against the rim of his hole.

“Not the clothes itself that’s filthy, darling.” James purrs at him, sickeningly sweet to disguise what he’s doing to Fraser. “More like you’re filthy for thinking you could get away with wearing something like this without me knowing.”

Fraser whimpers quietly, hips chasing warm touches as James’ pulls his hands back, one reaching for the lube on the desk and the other delicately pushing up the hem of his hoodie to expose the panties hugging his hips. Noises build in his throat, from pure want and neediness that stir up the sounds, and it’s difficult to suppress them when James’ lube-slicked fingers hover just above the hem of the panties.

“Baby boy, hold them aside for me,” James tells him, and it’s definitely not a question. “Don’t want to get such a pretty thing all messy, do we?” He teases, a grin gracing his lips, and Fraser exhales a soft moan as he nods.

It’s a difficult angle to work with; reaching back behind himself and trying to pull aside the back of the panties to expose his hole, all whilst attempting to keep his cheeks spread for easier access to James’ fingers. But he manages, simply because the other man asked him to do this, and he’d rather not have this at all than fail him.

The first finger is an easy glide, sinking smoothly to the last knuckle as his other fingers press softly into his perineum. That makes Fraser knock his head down against James’ shoulder, biting back quiet noises that try to escape. Another follows quickly, paving the way for the opportunity of a third with practiced ease.

It’s only when he is pushing a third finger inside that James speaks again, when Fraser has his eyes closed and lips parted to let out soft panting gasps into the other man’s shirt.

“Do you want to see something?” James asks, fingers curving and spearing deep enough into him that his back arches ever so slightly with each thrust in. Fraser nods the second James asks, knowing he wants whatever he’s offering before he even hears it.

“Look at the monitor, angel.” His voice softly melts into Fraser and makes him shiver lightly, obeying the order by turning his head on James’ shoulder to peek at the computer screen.

It’s himself, from the shoulders down, perched in James’ lap and showing off all the right angles. Warmth builds in his chest, spreading to his cheeks as he watches the fingers inside him disappear repeatedly inside him. James’ other hand is opposite to his own that’s holding the panties aside, his fingertips dipping inwards to press into his cheeks.

“James,” Fraser whines quietly, eyes roaming everything he can spot on the camera feed. It’s just that right now, no spectators or viewers yet. “It’s embarrassing.”

“What is?” James asks him, “It’s embarrassing having people see how beautiful my princess is when he’s getting fucked? I _want_ them to see you ride me, Fraser, and how you’re the only one who gets to.”

Possessiveness flares up in him, burning hot and thick at the words. James knows what that does to him, the acknowledgement that James is _his_, and he eagerly pushes back on the fingers as he watches James’ hand grab his ass on the screen like it belonged there.

“I think you’re just about ready, angel.” James hums and pulls his fingers out, kissing Fraser’s neck when he whines quietly. “Are _you_ ready?”

Fraser lifts his head and lets go of the panties still pulled aside, eyes darting between the monitor with the camera and the second monitor with the camsite pulled up. He’s anxious, thinking about everything that could go wrong. There’s already a few people in the chatroom of the site, and Fraser wonders just how his boyfriend advertised this to already have people waiting.

“There’s only going to be twenty-ish people,” James pipes up, sensing his silent hesitation and waning confidence. “Not too many people, but enough to see how well I get you off, hm?” His hand rubs comfortingly on Fraser’s hip, readjusting the panties so it covers his ass again.

Fraser nods, biting his lip and shuffling on the other man’s lap until he’s comfortably perched with his knees either side of James’ thighs, bracing his hands on his shoulders when James moves forward for the mouse.

With a soothing, constant rub on his waist, James clicks on the stream settings, and soon enough they’re live. Fraser thinks he might start sweating on the spot out of the sheer fear of being so _visible_ – which isn’t unfamiliar to him with his YouTube channel, but instead in how exposed he is and nobody even knows.

James settles back in the chair, fingers playing with the hem of Fraser’s panties and dipping beneath them, watching as a few more people come into the stream.

“There’s no mic, so don’t be afraid to be noisy.” James tells him, straightening his posture as he reads over the messages, From the angle he’s sat at right now, it’s impossible for Fraser to read them himself – and he isn’t sure he wants to in fear he’ll die out of embarrassment. “Though we can always turn it on later if you’re feeling brave.”

The wolfish grin James gives him sent a spark through Fraser’s veins, a wave of thunder striking his core and making him swallow down a desperate sound. “What are they saying?” He croaks out, making sure he’s properly in shot and there’s no chance his face will accidentally make it in.

James hums, considering. “I think they want to see how pretty you look in your panties, baby.” He grins, devilish and irresistible. “You want to show them?” He asks, gently pushing on Fraser’s hips until he’s nodding and putting his feet flat on the floor, facing away from the camera.

James’ hand comes up to guide him, pulling up the material so it shows off a nice soft lift of his ass and lightly smacking it, a gasp leaving Fraser’s lips as the sound resonates through the room and leaves his skin pink. He turns next, pulling up the sides of the panties so it sits as high as it can on his waist. The curve of his cock is prominent through the pink lace, already flushed and aching from anticipation.

“You’re beautiful, darling,” James tells him, pushing up his hoodie so it shows the stream the softness of his stomach, slightly outlined and giving easily under the gentle pressure of the hands roaming his skin. “They don’t know how lucky they are to see you.”

“James,” Fraser exhales a whine, “Don’t say that.” He gets flustered easily in moments like this, when words spill from the other man’s lips like he doesn’t care if Fraser goes hot from the sound of them.

“It’s true,” James pulls him back into his lip, hitching his legs up higher onto the chair and making his ass curve at the angle. Kisses are pressed to his neck and over his collarbone, his face covered by Fraser’s chest. “I’m far too lucky to even see this in person, let alone be able to touch you.”

Fraser whines again but doesn’t say anything this time, not when there’s so many eyes on him behind the screen. He wonders briefly who’s watching, what they’re like and what they’re thinking. But he finds it’s easier to ignore it when James gentle tugs on the bottom of the panties, like Fraser had when he was being prepped.

“Fancy showing them something else, angel?” James says, knowing the answer already when he shuffles so the view is more aligned with the camera.

Even if he can’t see what it looks like, Fraser still flushes when his hole is exposed, James’ fingers spreading his cheeks and gently teasing his rim with light fingertips. “What are they saying now?” He asks, morbid curiosity melting into him.

“Just about how they wish they could bury their cocks inside you,” James replies, tone easy as if he’s talking about something much more innocent. “Reckon some of them could cum to the sight of your pretty hole, Fraser.”

Another noise lodges itself in Fraser’s throat, bending further over James’ shoulder when he feels two fingers push inside him suddenly. He wants to push back, to be needy and cry out for more like it’s all he needs. But it’s better to save that for later, when James is properly inside him and stretching him open.

“Daddy, please,” Fraser huffs out, fingers twisting in the material of the other man’s shirt. “Please fuck me, don’t wanna wait.”

James laughs softly in reply. “You’re that impatient that you can’t even show off a bit to these nice people that have come to watch you?” He tuts, faux disappointment coming through his voice that’s not harsh enough to be heard as mocking. If anything, it just put Fraser more on edge.

“_Please_,” He chokes out, eagerly lifting off the fingers pushed inside him before sinking back down on them. “Need you so bad, James – and they want to see you fuck me as well.”

James goes quiet, letting him bounce on his fingers a few more times before he stops Fraser’s hips with a gentle hand on his waist. “We can’t disappoint them now, can we?” He says quietly, guiding Fraser off his lap until he’s settled back there, his back facing the man this time.

It’s hard to anticipate what’s going to happen, the knowledge of what James has planned for him silent and hidden away. But it doesn’t bother him; Fraser likes being guided like this, not having to use his own thoughts or words to get what he needs.

Hands pull at the panties, just like before, and Fraser willingly reaches back to hold them aside again. He thinks James is going to fuck him now, he _hopes_ he will, and it’s impossible not to get excited at the thought of all those people watching them. Fraser says as much, quietly and ducking just below a murmur, making James hum pleasedly.

“You’re gonna look so good for everybody when you’re sat on my cock,” James coos, turning to chair carefully so it’s presented to show the camera what they’re doing fully. “You going to show them how well you ride me, princess?”

“Yeah,” Fraser moans out, fumbling to the side where the lube is in reach on the desk. “Want everybody to see you fuck me how I need, daddy.” He chokes on the term, still slightly foreign on his own tongue even after saying it for so long, like a second nature. It makes James groan regardless of the slip up in his voice, easily undoing his belt without any need for rush.

James’ cock is full and thick already, a sight Fraser catches on the monitor when he’s applying more lube to his hole and teasingly sinking two fingers inside himself for the viewers. He moans lightly, both from stimulation and seeing how James angles his cock next to his own fingers buried deep. The size between his cock and Fraser’s fingers seems almost inordinate.

He can see a few messages in the chatroom pass by, visible at the new positioning. Fraser feels his cheeks heat up at what they say, about how much of a whore he is to take such a cock and what they would do to him. The latter doesn’t appeal to him, having people that aren’t _James_ lust after him, but it knocks a soft noise loose from him anyway at the heady words.

“C’mere,” James hums and pulls Fraser’s fingers free gently, coaxing his hand to curl around the thickness of his cock instead. Lube is lightly poured onto it, courtesy of James, and Fraser doesn’t waste the chance to stroke him until the lube is thoroughly coated.

Fraser leans forward, bracing one hand on the seat of the chair between his knees and the other on the arm of the chair. Quiet puffs filled with small noises disguised in sudden gasps leave him when James keeps the panties aside and rubs the head of his cock over his hole, pressing teasingly but not quite pushing.

“Please, fuck,” Fraser finds himself sobbing needily, “Please, don’t make me wait.”

James makes a cooing sound in fake sympathy, only half real when he gives in and starts the gentle guide of his cock inside Fraser. It’s always something that he has to get used to; having James there with him, being the one fucking him, _wanting_ to be the one fucking him. But he hums and gasps and moans the further James goes, using the chair they’re in as leverage to shove himself down greedily.

“Patience,” James tuts, “We can’t have you cumming so soon, angel, you know this.” He sighs when he bottoms out, hands wandering to show off the stretch of his cock inside Fraser to the camera.

When it gets too much, Fraser thinks he might lose his mind at how desperate he feels, like a churning tremor plaguing his body at the thought of what’s happening – thinking of people seeing him be so needy, of having what he needs inside him but not _how_ he needs.

“Can I move? Please, I can be good, yeah? I’ll go slow, make sure they know how well behaved I am for you, daddy, _please_.” Fraser rambles, fingers clenching tight onto where they’re braced and trying to subtly nudge his hips up and down. “Just let me–” He cuts off with a low moan, unnaturally loud for him unless he’s being fucked senseless into the mattress.

James has grabbed his hips and kept them still as he shoves his cock up into him, fingers curving marks into his skin like they have so many times before. It’s sudden, but not unwelcome, and Fraser gratefully moans and moves with the action when it’s repeated. He supposes this is for him, his _reward_, but he still somewhat expected James to chastise him for being greedy.

“Show them how good you fuck yourself onto me, princess.” James breathes out, leaning back in the seat as Fraser drops his hips repeatedly onto his cock. His thumb brushes purposely against the rim of his hole, testing how stretched he is while moving, large hands making sure to keep his cheeks parted.

Fraser sobs and pushes eagerly back into his hands, his muscles aching for any sort of touch he can get when it’s there. He tries not to be needy or take advantage of what he’s being given, but it’s difficult not to when he has it all _right there_, only for him.

“Wait,” James stops him again, this time much more forceful when Fraser whines and tries to continue his movements. “Want to see you, yeah?”

Fraser swallows down something thick in his throat at the sentiment, nodding softly before he lifts himself off James to turn and face the man instead. A kiss is immediately pressed to his lips, soothing and gentle, calming any bouncing nerves that wreaking havoc inside him. But it’s short lived when James turns the chair once more, fucking back into him and making a moan instantly spill from Fraser’s lips.

“Keep hold of these, hm?” James says into his neck, peering over his shoulder at the monitors. “Be good and let daddy fuck you how you need, baby.”

It’s hard to say no to the other man, especially when Fraser doesn’t even want to say no. So he hums out a needy noise, his own fingers overtaking James’ with holding aside the pink lace material so James’ cock inside him isn’t obscured. Hands dig into his thigh, harsh and unforgiving as they grip onto the soft flesh tight like it’s what they were made for.

“I thought I was meant to be riding you,” Fraser whimpers, his free arm coming up to rest on James’ shoulder and burying his flushed face into his neck. “This was _my_ reward, remember?”

James exhales a laugh at his words, but Fraser knows he’s not going to be told off for his mild cheekiness. “I’m sorry, angel. I just couldn’t help myself.” He grunts, repeatedly shoving his cock into him. “I’ll make it up to you after.”

It’s not obvious what that promise entails, but Fraser can’t find it in him to be upset that he didn’t get to ride the other man. It warms him to know James can’t hold back from being rough with him, knowing it’s from a need that is mirrored in Fraser’s own gut. He can’t be mad at James for taking over a bit, not when he’s already a mess in his lap and relishing in every fast thrust upwards into him.

He tries to get some friction against James’ stomach, pushing into James gently when his cock pushes back into him. It helps some with the panties, rubbing at the sensitive spot just below his head, but he whines heavily when it’s not enough for him to get any real satisfaction from.

“Daddy,” Fraser mewls, fingers gripping the man’s shoulder and pushing down into his lap. “I need more, please, more.”

“Filthy little thing,” James pants, leaning down in his seat just the smallest bit more to reach a deeper angle inside Fraser. It makes him jolt feeling his prostate be hit, and James only gets rougher from then. “Now people are gonna really see what a needy slut you are, always crying and begging for my cock. They’re gonna see how fucking filthy you really are, angel.”

Fraser moans, his grip on James’ shoulder trembling as he struggles to keep his eyes open. It’s too much to stay stable, too much feeling how James relentlessly buries his cock into him like he’s something to be _used_.

“I’m filthy,” Fraser sobs and feels his thighs tense when James shoves harshly into his prostate again. “I’m filthy for you, James, only you. Don’t wanna be anybody else’s whore but yours.”

James pauses suddenly, breath heavy as he digs his blunt nails into his thighs. “Can I put them sound on for them?” He asks carefully, “It’d be a waste for them not to hear when you sound so gorgeous.”

Fraser freezes, his own chest trying to even out with a stutter in his lungs. The thought of the people watching, _hearing_ him too, makes him dizzy, tingling heat crawling over his skin as he softly moans into James’ shirt-covered shoulder. But the fear of somebody recognising him rises, before it’s squashed back down. It’s unlikely anybody out of the twenty or so people watching will know who he is based on the pleasured noises escaping him, especially when if they _did_ know then the familiar backdrop of James’ room would have already given it away. Fraser nods before he even realises, letting James lean over to click on the muted mic button.

It’s silent, only dim exhales of their breath to be heard, but enough to be caught on the sound program James also has pulled up alongside the camera. A hand rubs comfortingly along his hip, putting his rising nerves at ease when they flare up again. Fraser’s used to people hearing him; this is not much different than anything else he does.

With that in mind, he sinks down onto James’ cock and lets out the first purposeful noise in the form of a gentle punched-out breath. It takes some getting used to, the shove of James fucking back into him and trying not to muffle any of his noises, but soon he’s back to where he previously was and moaning loud enough that the threat of a noise complaint is on the tables.

“Who’s fucking you this good, angel?” James whispers to him softly, entirely for the purpose of getting Fraser to spout filthy words and phrases. He knows this, but he doesn’t mind. He wants them to hear him.

“You, daddy.” Fraser moans heavy, taking over when James stills to let him fuck himself onto his cock. “You fuck me this good, no one else.” His voice pitches on the last few words, thighs shaking ever so slightly when he incidentally shoves the cock directly into his prostate.

“That’s right, baby. You’re _my_ slut, aren’t you?” James growls as he braces his hands on his hips, keeping him still with no freedom of moving in sight as he resumes his unforgiving pace. It all makes Fraser moan, makes him cry out and gasp and whimper until tears form in the corners of his eyes.

James leans over to turn off the audio then, desperation built in his shoulders when he returns back to the seat fully and grazes his teeth across the bare skin of Fraser’s neck, harshly sucking a bruise into it after.

“You’re gonna make daddy cum, angel.” James pants, his breathing picking up by the second. “Can I cum?”

The question makes Fraser light-headed; it’s rare that the other man ever asks something like that when he holds all the power between them, knowing Fraser likes it when he takes what he needs without questioning. But before he can let himself go dizzy with the power he’s been given, he moans and begs in response, like there’s nothing more that he wants.

James groans heavily in his chest, fingernails definitely leaving marks to trace and press into later, eagerly shoving into Fraser until he stills and his cock throbs inside him. A few stuttering thrusts follows as he comes, off-rhythm and thrown miles away from the pace he had before.

When Fraser turns to look, the chatroom of the stream is filled with new messages. He can’t see them clearly through the mistiness of his eyes, making his vision blurry even if he blinks, but he’s sure they’re just as lewd as before.

Kisses are pressed to his neck, spreading over one side until they reach the front of his throat, then spreading to the other side like ink in water. It’s momentarily calming, making his breathing slow ever so slightly as James comes down from his high.

His own cock aches, almost painful as he testingly rubs himself against James’ stomach again. But he patiently waits for James to calm down and lightly clenches around the man, bringing his hips up a few inches before James stops him.

“Look, princess,” James says in his ear, words breathless as he attempts to quietly bring the air back to his lungs. Soft kisses are pressed into Fraser’s jaw, gentle and affection while James draws circles into the curve of his hips. “They want me to eat out your gorgeous hole for them.”

Fraser draws in a sharp breath and turns the rest of the way to read the chat on his monitor. His vision has cleared while James catches his breath, and the slight roll of the chair closer to the screen helps too. There it is, every few messages, people begging the faceless man beneath Fraser on the video feed to eat him out after James just came inside him. It makes his cheeks heat up reading them, like a fire boiling his blood, and his eyes stray to the bed behind them on the video.

“Please, daddy?” Fraser whispers as if the audio is still turned on, “Only if you want to.” He hopes James does, more than anything. He gets his answer before James even speaks, through fingers skirting the edge of his filled hole, stretched from James’ cock still inside him.

“Of course,” James presses a final kiss to the curve of his neck and teases his fingers beneath the hem of the panties still comfortably hugging Fraser’s waist – although a little jostled from being fucked and manhandled around in James’ lap. “Of course I want to, even if it hurts me to see you out of this gorgeous thing.” He teases, snapping the waistband so it leaves a light pink line behind on his skin.

Fraser hides the pleased grin that builds on his lips as James briefly turns off the camera, gently guiding his hips up and off his cock. He whines quietly from the loss, stopping himself short from begging James to fuck him all over again. But he remembers what this is proceeding into, what he’s going to gain from it, and suddenly he feels the air leave his lungs at the thought.

James moves the camera onto a tripod facing the side of the bed, lowering the height until it’s level. Fraser takes the moment to slide the panties off, briefly picking at the hem of the stockings before he decides to leave them on.

It’s awkward finding positioning at first without showing either of their faces, but it settles easily when James turns the camera back on – now on the tripod – and sits on the floor to lean against the side of the bed with Fraser blocking any view of his face.

“Uh...Do I…?” Fraser grasps for the words he needs, keeping his thighs tight together when he feels something wet slowly leak from his hole as he stands. But before he can ask anything else, the words are swallowed down and replaced with a surprised gasp when James’ hands come up and roughly grabs his hips, pulling him until his knees are on the bed with his calves overhanging the edge.

“Like this okay?” James asks, breath brushing against his cock so lightly that Fraser whimpers. He nods eagerly, bringing his hands down to run them through the other man’s hair.

As soon as he confirms he’s okay, James shuffles down the short distance and gives a short kiss to his spread thighs before pulling them tight together until his knees touch. Fraser starts to pull them back apart before he suffocates the poor man between his legs, until he feels the first stripe of James’ tongue against his hole – and suddenly his legs are pulled back together like they’re magnets to metal.

“Daddy,” Fraser says weakly, fisting his hand in the other man’s hair at the overwhelming sensation of James’ tongue on him. “Fuck, daddy, I’m gonna hurt you–” He’s cut off for the second time that night by James grabbing his hips and pulling them back down when Fraser tries to lift off.

James groans into him, hands moving to his thighs and gripping onto them tightly as he keeps Fraser still. A sob escapes him, giving in and pushing down against the man’s tongue, hands still fisted in feather-like locks and pressed against the bed.

James always looks good beneath him like this, but he’s never been so _eager_ before. They’ve done this before, obviously, it’s not too unfamiliar, but the sight of James’ face pressed between his thighs and fingers digging into the soft pudginess of them makes something build up inside Fraser.

“James, I just–” Fraser moans, pushing down on his tongue when it licks into him easily, pulling on his hair far too tight to be comfortable. But the man beneath him groans again regardless of any pain he might have, eyes closing and pushing his tongue into Fraser.

Another high pitched noise of the man’s name is let out, his breath becoming more uneven by the second, and one of his hands come up to wrap around his cock. Fraser’s leaking over his fist already, building again at the head when he wipes it away with his thumb. It feels as if he could die like this, giving himself over to some higher being that’s going to take the soul straight from his body. But it’s only James there now, only them in this room, any other watching eyes forgotten as Fraser whines and grinds down against his mouth.

When he comes, it’s with a squeal that quickly trails off into nothing, clenching his thighs tight around James’ face in a way that would worry him if it weren’t for the soft humming sounds rumbling into his skin. He comes into his fist, head thrown back while he forcefully gasps for air, trembling from the pressure in his stomach.

Hands soothe him through it, rubbing down the sides of his shaking thighs until they fall loose from their tense hold, running up his waist to lift Fraser’s hips up. Kisses pressed to his inner thighs, slightly wet and leaving a cooling patch of saliva behind. Reassuring words are whispered to him, coaxing him down from the high he built himself up on.

“You’re gorgeous,” James tells him, “My pretty angel. You looked so good above me, Fraser.” He can’t help but laugh in response, embarrassed and breathy as he tries not to let his red cheeks betray him.

Fraser clambers off the man on weak knees, letting James rush to turn off the stream and watches as the messages soon dwindling until all the users have left the room. He’s exhausted, knees feeling as if they could buckle under him any second until James lets him lean up against him.

“Thank you,” He whispers softly, fingers playing with the seam of James’ shirt. “For all of that. I hope it was good for you too.”

“Of course it was, sweetheart.” James runs his hands down his back, pulling him the small distance closer until they’re flush together. “Thank you for letting me do it for you.” He replies, resting their heads together side by side.

Fraser pulls back to lean up to the other man, aiming to kiss pink lips that look much too good right now – until James distances himself with a soft noise.

“I don’t think you want to kiss me right now, even if you did clean up.” He grins, amused, and a hand comes up to lift Fraser’s chin. “Let’s take a shower and then I can give you all the kisses you want, yeah?”

A sigh of fake-annoyment leaves Fraser, quickly followed by a bold smile that upturns the corners of his mouth despite his exhaustion. He lets James lead him to the bathroom, and makes a mental reminder to thank the man with the sweetest kisses he can muster later.


End file.
